Through the Eyes of a Psychopath, Episode I
by An Unusual Storyteller
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester get a case in Miami. Dealing with the notorious, 'Reaper of Miami'. Meanwhile, Dexter races them to kill this new foe. But, who will catch him first? Going to be Rated M due to future violence in future chapters. R&R, please. Also, character limit ran out; includes Batista. Cas and others to be in the future.
1. Reaper's Arrival

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own either Dexter, or Supernatural. I felt this needed to be done. Includes OC.**

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><p><em>Miami, Florida. January 16th, 2014.<em>

Dexter Morgan. Blood splatter analyst. Serial killer. Psychopath. Dexter knew he was all of these things. However, he did not expect one thing. The Winchesters. They arrived a few days ago. Dexter didn't like them... his Dark Passenger felt something, off, about them. Nonetheless, he wasn't sure what it was; and he was being kept busy by Lieutenant Batista. After all, he had only returned months earlier, claiming he survived the boat crash and simply had amnesia up until a few weeks earlier. The Winchesters were looking into a new psychopath, Dexter knew. He didn't know that, from the Winchester's point of view, this was no human. Unfortunately for those poor Winchesters, Dexter already knew the suspect; however, he did not want to kill him. The suspect was too...intriguing, to say the least. Dexter had only met him in person, once. Under his personality, "Henry Johnson". Though, the suspect only addressed himself as Eldritch, Dexter had already done a background check on the guy. He knew his full name was Eldritch Strovski. He was of Russo-German descent, and yet had no detectable accent, perhaps the only odd thing about him. To Dexter, that is. Eldritch's psychopathy was far different from Dexter's, and he knew it from the start. Even Dexter's _Dark Passenger_, the thing which feared no other psychopath, the thing which urged him to kill for so long, felt that this guy should be left the hell alone. But, Dexter knew he had to. He just wasn't sure when. Eldritch, on the other hand, was a very hyperobservant person. Not only that, but according to his profile, he was squeaky clean for crimes and other various things, like mental illnesses. And, after only one meeting, it was hard to tell, but Dexter could swear the emotions Eldritch felt for people around him were..._genuine?_ But. That couldn't be right. Could it? If it was, it meant that Eldritch wasn't a psychopath of any known caliber that Dexter knew before. It meant Eldritch genuinely _wanted to kill._ For _no observable_ reason. If that was the case, and if Dexter had normal emotions, it'd probably send a shiver down his spine. A normal person wanting to kill for fun? No way. Suddenly, Batista walked in- but Dexter was expecting his sister, until he remembered- and Batista had told him that he wanted some bloodwork and such done for the new case, that was on Eldritch. Or, as the public knew him, the _Reaper of Miami_. He had become quite the unknown entity and scary figure to the public, Dexter told himself.

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><p>The Winchesters had finished after another long day of interrogating supposed witnesses to the so-called "Reaper of Miami". Nothing. Sam looked at Dean curiously as Dean slammed his fist into the table, angered that they had found nothing at all in these simple four days. Dean stared back. "<strong>What?<strong>", Dean asked. Obviously, Sam gave him the 'you-know-what' glare. Nonetheless, it didn't make Dean any happier to see it. Dean then sighed, grunting at Sam's stare. Almost a scoff. The Mark of Cain wasn't gone. Not yet. And, Cas was too busy to help currently. Said he had business to attend to in Heaven. Sam then sighed, looking at Dean and closing his laptop. He stared for a moment, thinking of what words to say. He then had to say something, and something that moment. Sam decided on what to say very, very carefully, before he finally spoke aloud in a normal tone. "**Dean. I can't find anything on this SOB, 'Reaper of Miami'. Nothing. We've talked with Miami Metro. Nothing. All we have is his legendary name, and crime scenes. Which, by these photos, looks like a werewolf-vampire hybrid, who makes humans shed their skin like a shapeshifter.**", Sam had finally remarked. Dean grunted at this, and slammed his fist into the table again. This time, more angrily. He turned to Sam, breathing heavily, gaining composure so he chose his words carefully. He didn't want to sound like he was attacking Sam, after all. So. "**Sammy. I don't like this. Not a bit. It's... weird. And, you remember that blood guy's name? Ah, what was it- Dexter? Yeah. He freaked me out. I felt like he was glaring daggers into me. Like, he actually wanted to kill me. It was weird. I dunno. Something ain't right. It ain't right, at all. I say we pay him a visit tomorrow.**", said Dean. Sam just gave him the nod that meant 'OK, sure'. They went to bed for the night; they were tired after searching for so long.

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><p>The next day, Sam and Dean Winchester (Aaron Bruce and Eli Jackson, were their aliases as FBI agents) were waiting for Dexter outside of work. They offered him a drink in the diner nearby. Dexter figured social interaction was good for him; it'd let him practice being "normal", and so he said yes. After they entered the diner, Dexter sat across from the brothers. Sam decided he'd ask the questions, since he was a good thinker. And so... "<strong>Mr. Morgan, I was just wondering. You're a blood analyst, right? So. I am going to just ask you a few questions concerning the victims. Did the victims have teeth marks? Bite marks, perhaps? Or, scratches? Missing organs? Finally, do you know how they lost their skin?<strong>", asked Sam, very politely. Dexter thought a moment. He could already see through the stupid rouse, but didn't give it away. He sighed, deciding that more help with Eldritch would be better than none. But he didn't want them interfering, too much. Dexter responded simply as he could. "**Well, Agent Jackson. I am the blood analyst, yes. Also, no. No bite marks, scratches. Nothing. Unless you count the ones that were done by a knife- and before if you ask if I'm sure, I'd like to inform you I've worked enough cases almost similar to this to know the difference. It was a knife. Not sure what kind. The knife did the stabbings, cuttings, and the fake scratches and bites. It's also what he used to skin his victims. So, yeah, I guess you could say I have no idea what kind of knife can do that. Well, besides a 'Swiss Army' Knife, that only has knives to offer. Which would probably have to be home made, or bought out-of-town.**", Dexter replied. Wow, very helpful. The brothers thought over the information carefully. A human was responsible? Had to be, based on what Dexter said. And they couldn't doubt Dexter, as he was the one with all the experience in this junk, not them. So, what were they to do? Hunt the psycho, or let the police handle it? Dexter saw them glancing at each other, as if telepathically deciding what to do.

Meanwhile, the diner's door opened up. A man, very large man. About seven foot seven inches tall, giving even Sam a chill from his height. The man walked through the door, favoring his right leg. He looked about in his fourties or fifties. The man had a tophat on, along with a black trenchcoat that surrounded him. Under that was a suit, and tie. Black shoes. He had pure blue eyes, and light blonde hair. The man's wrinkles of age and scars made him look like a war veteran, but Dexter knew better. It was Eldritch, none other than his possible future victim. Eldritch walked with his cane, heading to a table on the opposite side of the diner of them. The cane had a silver handle, shaped like a wolf. The cane itself was black. Eldritch then sat down, staring at Sam and Dean with such a death glare that it would've made them think he was going to suddenly toss his cane like a spear at them. Luckily, he didn't. Eldritch then turned his attention to the waitress who tended to him, ordering a tuna sandwich it appeared.

_And so it begins._

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><p><strong>So, this is chapter one of this episode. Rate and review, please. Might do more in the future. Peace.<strong>

**-I am Noob342. Do not judge me.-**


	2. Contempt

**AN: I do NOT own Dexter or Supernatural. Unfortunate. Here is Chapter Two.**

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><p>Sam and Dean had finally gotten back to the Motel they were staying in, the "<em>Fancy Lady<em>". Dean selected it because it sounded like a stripclub. Sam and Dean needed to go over what they had been told by Dexter, who was all too sure it was a human responsible for the deaths. Sam decided he'd talk first, since he was the one who was more confused than Dean seemed. Which, was, for the most part, normal. At least, for Dean and Sam.

"**So... well. What do we do? That Dexter guy seems pretty confident.**", said Sam, breaking the awkward silence. Dean snorted, before talking.

"**Well... I dunno. I'm not so sure it's human. On the other hand, this Dexter guy has been looking at stuff humans do for a long time, so, for the first time in my life, I am stumped.**", said Dean. Sam almost had to stifle a laugh- then again, he decided, they were both stumped.

Neither one could believe a human was responsible for such a horrible thing. And yet, the way Dexter described it made sense enough. Sam suddenly thought about Dexter for a moment- the odd... look in his eyes. Like a predator disguising itself as prey. He wondered if Dean saw it, too.

"**Dean, correct me if I'm wrong- but did that Dexter guy seem a bit... off?**", Sam asked, as if he was questioning himself more than Dean.

"**I was about to ask you that. Hell yeah, I do. Got this feeling he wanted to stab me like a bitch. But, he held it back.**", Dean said. Sam and Dean nodded in agreement at the description. They decided that they'd investigate this Dexter Morgan character the next morning.

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><p>Dexter had finally gotten to the safety of his apartment. He continued thinking over those FBI agents. He sensed they knew something about him, but hoped that it was not his Dark Passenger. Well, hope wasn't the word for it. It was just the closest word to how Dexter could describe the odd sensation. Or, rather... feeling? Nonetheless, Dexter contemplated killing them. He tossed that thought from his mind immediately. FBI Agents couldn't fit his code... could they? Dexter decided he'd contact them again, to try to see what he can learn about them.<p>

He also decided he'd investigate them in the morning. Dexter had a long night, so, he went to bed.

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><p>Eldritch had walked into his killroom. It was covered in cow's blood, like all other crimescenes, for unknown reasons. Eldritche walked over to the table upon which his victim was strapped down via nailgun being fired into their wrists, repeatedly. Like all other of his crimescenes. Eldritch smiled over his victim, who gazed at him in fear, groaning in pain as his mouth was sewn shut. Eldritch spoke in a stern, viper tone.<p>

"**I'm sorry to do this. Really, I am, sir. But, as your doctor, I know what's best for my patient.**", Eldritch said. The victim was his 'patient', and that was true in Eldritch's cruel mind. He picked up a knife, stabbing the man a bunch of times until the body stopped moving. He then began getting his other tools, removing his skin and placing it inside his stomach. Eldritch then stabbed the eyeballs out, refilling the sockets with black wax. He smiled at his creation. He then left the body there, calling 911 on a nearby phonebooth. He left the body there to be discovered.

The Reaper had struck again.


	3. Revelations

**AN: Here it is. I own nothing. Sad, too.**

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><p>Dexter awoke to his alarm. Shit. He was late for work. Or, later than he normally was. He immediately bolted to life, getting ready for work and doing what he needed to do. Dexter left his apartment when he was finished, only to be greeted by the two friendly neighborhood FBI Agents. Yeah, right. Dexter still felt... off, about them. Dexter sighed, and before either of them could speak, he rose his hand up to them, signalling them to not talk, at all. "<strong>I'm already late for work, and I have no intention of being later.<strong>", said Dexter, pushing passed them and headed to his car. He sped off. Sam and Dean looked each other in the eyes, deciding that was unexpected with a telepathic stare. They headed back to the Impala, driving off.

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><p>Eldritch walked along, entering Sam and Dean's motel- they weren't back yet. Eldritch knew something was up, and wanted to know if these two were to be his next patients. He entered the motel room for them after having looked through the guest log book. Unfortunately, no patients were witness to his greatness. Sad. Eldritch opened the door using the spare master key. Eldritch looked around, discovering lots of... familiar things. Hunters. He smirked brightly, and looked around. Eldritch found more fake IDs of FBI, CDC, etc. origin. His smirk became a nearly ear-to-ear grin. The Winchesters, he thought. Perfect. Eldritch's smile faded when he sensed a presence in the room. He turned, only to be greeted by Castiel. He frowned. "<strong>Come to ruin my fun with my patients, oh great Winged One?<strong>", Eldritch said, snickering. Cas stared at the man, trying- and semi-failing- to hide his expression of fear. Eldritch laughed at that failure of an attempt. Cas cut him off by pinning him to the wall. Cas spoke furiously, at Eldritch. "**What. Are. ****_You_****. Doing. Here?**", said Castiel. Eldritch and Cas knew each other quite well. It made sense. Eldritch was one of... _them._ Castiel couldn't- no, wouldn't dare think the name of Eldritch's race of traitors. Eldritch laughed at Cas, responding plainly and simply to Cas in a polite manner. "**Well, Castiel. What do you think? I'm encouraging my host's psychopathy. And enjoying it quite well. I can sense your thoughts, Castiel. They refuse to think the name of the ****_Dark Ones. _****The ****_Fallen._**** Why?**", Eldritch said and asked very quickly. Castiel grunted at him, which seemed to gain some surprise out of Eldritch. The Fallen- it was a nickname for the offspring of Angels and... Demons. And they were far more powerful, and made less noise in terms of leaving supernatural evidence. Cas was surprised to hear the Impala park outside. Oh boy, if they caught him with the Fallen in here... he'd have some explaining to do. Explaining he'd rather not discuss. And he hadn't the time to move Eldritch before the Winchesters walked in, dumbstruck at the appearance. _This is going to be fun. I have three patients now._, the Fallen thought.


End file.
